


Sapphire on Her Lips

by Lostlock



Category: Will & Grace
Genre: A Chorus Lie, Episode 4x16, F/M, Valentine's Day, shelter island
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-09 08:48:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12884298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lostlock/pseuds/Lostlock
Summary: Will agrees to accompany Karen to her annual weekend Valentine's Day party on Shelter Island. There's a particular expression Karen makes when she's surprised, and he wants to be the reason he sees it.Chaste ficlet for now but could get longer/more explicit later.





	1. Chapter 1

Karen’s pouty whine pierced Will’s daydream and he winced. 

“Wilma, I need you to do me a favor,” she said from the doorway of his office. “I need you to go with me to the annual Valentine’s Day party on Shelter Island. Stan normally goes, but the fat bastard’s in prison this year, so you’re my date. Get out your tweezers and start preparing to kiss more asses than Jack on a gay cruise!” She started to leave.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Karen!” Will called after her. “Can’t you get one of your servants to do it? They have loads more practice propping you up and making you look conscious at parties.” 

“Don’t think I haven’t tried. They all have ‘wives’ or ‘boyfriends’ they wanna ‘cuddle’ on ‘Valentine’s Day.’” She did air quotes and made a face. “It was either you or the dead hamster Stan’s kids left behind when they went to live with their mother. So here I am.” This time, she paused and looked at him. “What d’you say?”

Will racked his brain and gestured hopelessly around, stammering for an excuse to avoid being stuck with a drunk Karen and her equally loaded socialite friends. But she looked down at the carpet and though she was far from tears, he saw in her the tiredness and resignation she kept constantly bottled up.

He sighed finally and crossed his arms. “Sure.”

She perked up and responded dryly, but her eyes contained more gratitude than she would ever vocalize to him, and something else. Shock? Hope?

“Thanks, honey. You won’t regret it. Maybe it’ll even drum up some business for this snooze you call a job.”

He rolled his eyes as she left, but smiled to himself. Those moments were what made her just the slightest bit endearing to him. It was hard to make Karen Walker feel grateful or heartfelt about anything, but it was harder still to surprise her. 

\--

“You are a sweet, delicious man with great morals and great values,” assured Grace. It wasn’t that Will was _dreading_ the Shelter Island weekend, but… it was hard to get excited about three days with someone who was actively degrading and demeaning toward him. After all, he got enough of that in his childhood; why would he want more of it now that he was an adult?

But that aspect of his adolescence also created in him an insatiable thirst to be liked. And as repulsive as Karen’s personality was, he had to admit the extent to which he tolerated her correlated with his need to know she cared for him on some level. 

That frustrated him. Why did he want the affection of a warped and bitter woman who would just as soon spit on him as look at him? Was he jealous of Jack’s relationship with her? Did he want her as his “hag”? Did he just appreciate her fashion sense and the air of mystery she created by refusing to divulge any information about her past? And the amusing way she would collapse when someone insulted her? And the rare experience of being able to surprise her?

This is how he justified the time he was willing to spend with her in the past, and this is how he was justifying a whole weekend with her on Shelter Island. It could either confirm his impression that Karen only used and discarded him as a lawyer and stand-in for another partner or friend, or convince him she cared for him as an equal. 

Barring that, he’d just coast on the surprise and gratitude she felt when he said yes and hope it meant fewer jokes at his expense.


	2. Chapter 2

He couldn’t remember a time he was more angry with Karen. And that included the night she’d humiliated him by having him perch on a piano to sing an Olivia Newton-John ballad. But this… this was much worse. Telling all her friends he was accompanying her as her whore? Letting him carry on without knowing about it? He felt sick. 

“Why would you spread such a horrible rumor?!” Here he thought the weekend was going so well – not without its steady stream of jabs from Karen, but he was having some fun firing back at her with his own. The way she was referring all these hoity-toity elites to him was so promising, and seemed to point to the relationship of equals he was hoping for from her. 

As usual, though, the illusion of a Karen Walker who was legitimately interested in someone else’s success or well-being was shattered. And all those potential clients he’d made appointments with were expecting _much_ different services from him.

“I’m getting out of here,” he spat, feeling dizzy with rage.

“You’re not going anywhere! The dance is at 8 o’clock tonight and I need you to be my partner.” Her desperation was clear, but he was far beyond caring.

“Forget it. Get somebody else from your staff -- butcher, or baker, or painkiller-maker,” he said. “Oh, I forgot -- they were all smart enough to say no!”

“Honey, wait.” Karen’s voice softened a bit. “You’re the only one I asked.”

Will stood, dumbstruck. “What?”

“You’re the one that I wanted to be here.” She faltered a bit, and Will turned to leave again. 

“Wait a minute, honey.” Will could tell whatever she was trying to say had to do with emotions, because she was clearly having some trouble getting the words out. “Ever since Stanley went to prison, you’re the only man in my life that I can count on.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but nothing could make him stay another minute in her presence. He was livid.

“Well, you should have thought of that before,” he said, and left.

It was her turn to surprise him.

\--

Each time he was more intrigued by her antics than repulsed, he had a choice: investigate why he was intrigued and examine those feelings, or push them aside forever. 

Pushing them aside had worked for years. After all, her continual insults and stereotypes were enough to make him resent her. But there was something that drew him to her. He felt it the first time he’d ever had a genuine conversation with her that wasn’t dominated by snide insults. The first time he’d caused that glimmer of surprise, of being caught off-guard. 

_“How is the woman inside the ass-kicking wardrobe?”_

_“A little bit lost.”_

There was a genuine compassion that made him want to care for her, trust her, be her friend.

So when he got in the taxi he’d called to take him away from her Valentine’s Day party, he had to admit to himself it was unlikely he’d make it all the way home. Barely a block away, he was already imagining her face, humiliated by Beverly Leslie and the stares of her privileged peers, and remembering the words she’d said before he left.

_“You’re the only man in my life that I can count on.”_

He stopped the cab and took a walk. He was still angry -- _a gigolo, really?!_ \-- but then, he supposed he could also be flattered by how many people were interested in using his, erm, professional expertise. 

Karen’s usual way of “relating” to people was to tear them down so no one wanted to be around them. In Will’s case, it sometimes worked by making him not want to be around himself. But this time, Karen was so desperate to have him around that she made everyone else want him, as well. 

_“You’re the one that I wanted to be here.”_

__

__

_She wanted him around. Karen Walker already liked him._


	3. Chapter 3

There was just enough time to shower and change when he got back to the country club, and by the time he got back downstairs the dance was beginning. He could hear Karen’s voice, shrill but resolute, and smiled. He enjoyed these rare moments when he was able to surprise her, when she was forced to recognize kindness in other people. 

“... everybody happy?! Karen Walker is all alone!”

“No, no she’s not.” Just as he predicted, her face betrayed her shock and she blushed. As confident as she was, she was not immune to flattery. 

As he strolled over to her, he was aware he looked more confident than he felt. Every eye was on him, but he could only look at her. And she was… _stunning_. Her hair was piled high; her dress was fabulous; her skin was radiant – even beneath the harsh spotlight and subtle gin blossoms. He watched her mood shift, watched her trust in him be realized by his mere presence. 

They swayed with ease and the crowd continued to stare, not knowing what to make of their pairing or his sudden reappearance. 

“Why’d you come back?” Will heard her ask. He felt a momentary pang of anxiety as she posed the question he’d been asking himself the whole evening, but he still didn’t have an answer. 

“Who else you gonna count on,” he said.

Will had comforted and consoled her more times than he could count. And certainly more times than she could count, given the substances rolling through her body at any given time and her usual inability to keep up with reality.

Her behavior was inexcusable; he knew that. She was ridiculous. She was racist. She was intolerable. She was a drunk, an addict, an unforgivable lush whose confidence and self-assurance had somehow mystified him more than it had repelled him. 

But he had returned to that dance. And there had to be a reason.

“So they really think I’m a gigolo?”

“Yeah,” she replied. There was a bemused fondness in her voice.

“Let’s give ‘em something to talk about,” he said. _There was that expression again._ Intrigue, curiosity, disbelief. He spun her into him, reveling in those brief seconds when he knew what was about to happen and she could only wonder, until his hand found the silky fabric on her lower back and his lips caught hers.

She tasted like Bombay Sapphire and her lips were more plush than any man’s (or woman’s) he’d ever felt. The kiss was not perfect, unpracticed as it was, but it was unexpectedly real. More so than Will could have anticipated, given the show he meant to put on, and it caught him off guard. Karen’s grip on his shoulder tightened and this time he felt, rather than saw, that she shared his surprise.

When he pulled away she was smiling coyly, and he braced for the inevitable insult. _You kiss like a girl and your lips are tougher than the hands of a Hungarian shot-putter. ___

__“Oh, Will,” she said instead, “now I can see why Grace married you.”_ _

__He knew what he wanted, and he knew why he’d come back. He wanted to surprise her more. As often as he could. He wanted to see that expression that told him, _I didn’t realize people could be this good. I didn’t realize you could be this good to me_. Again and again and again. And if he had to get it by kissing her, so be it._ _


End file.
